


A Conversation with the Master of Death

by lazybum89



Series: One-Shots for Now [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2017-12-23 21:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/931322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazybum89/pseuds/lazybum89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Phil falls unconscious and starts to fight for his life after Loki stabs him, he dreams and has a conversation with someone who calls himself the Master of Death… What happens after he wakes up and he finds out others had conversations with the Master of Death?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Conversation with the Master of Death

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing that you recognize. Harry Potter and the Avengers both belong to their respective owners.
> 
> A/N: This is just a little idea that occurred to me one day and I may continue it with each member of the Avenger team having an experience or a continuation from where I leave off, who knows, but for now it is completed!
> 
> BACKGROUND: Timelines for this story, what you need to know is that I pushed the Harry Potter timeline back exactly 100 years, so Harry was born 1880, the Battle of Hogwarts was 1898, etc. The Avengers timeline is exactly like it is in the movie.
> 
> Beta: Lady of the Shards

Agent Phil Coulson, after trying to finish passing his last message on to Fury, and failing much to his displeasure, welcomed the darkness that had been threatening to take him under for the last couple of minutes.

The next moment, or so it seemed to him, Phil opened his eyes and all he saw was darkness while feeling as if he were floating. He had the sudden urge to rub his eyes to make sure they were opened but he resisted, he was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent after all and they all had their standards. Where was he? What happened? Did he _die_?

"Those are always the same questions that are asked when someone comes here," said a voice from his left. "Along with 'I'm not ready to die yet.'"

If Phil wasn't a fully trained S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, he would have jumped and squealed, manly of course, like no tomorrow. As it were, he _was_ a fully trained S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and he hasn't done something like that since he was ten. Instead, he, as calmly as he could, turned towards the voice but it was hopeless. He still couldn't see a thing through the darkness that was pressing into him from all sides.

"Who are you? Any chance of there being any light to see where I am?" asked Phil as calmly as he could but no sooner had he asked about the light when suddenly there was a dim light and Phil could see only immediately around him and the young man that was now in front of him.

"That's a yes to the light," said the young man whose face was covered by a cloak's hood. Since when did people go around wearing cloaks? The young man sounded amused. "This is, as someone once said to me, 'your party' so you can have whatever you want, within reason of course, until you've made your choice."

"What do you mean? I have a choice? I'm not dead yet? And who are you?" asked Phil and never before did he voice so many questions at once.

The young man had the nerve to laugh at him then.

"Patience. All will be explained in time and maybe not even until you've moved _on_ will you fully understand everything," explained the young man and was it just Phil or was there a certain emphasis on the word "on" as if there was another meaning to it?

"As to your first question, this is all essentially happening just to you so you can manipulate certain things, like wish for clothes and I would recommend that as it gets a bit drafty here no matter what scene you chose, within reason," said the young man who was no longer laughing but simply explaining.

Which was lucky because it was then that Phil realized he wasn't wearing any clothes and it was indeed feeling a bit drafty. He immediately wished for clothes and got dressed rather quickly in a simple black suit.

"Nice choice," said the young man and Phil could practically feel the grin. Well, at least it wasn't laughter, never call Phil a pessimist though he wondered if this was Stark's doing somehow. "As to your second question, you always have a choice. In everything you do. For your third question you fired at me, I can't answer that question. Only you truly can know when you are dead. As for your final question, I have many names and titles but the one I'm currently going by right now is Master of Death, especially while I'm here."

' _Master of Death while I'm here,'_ thought Phil. ' _What in the world did that mean?'_

"What does that mean?" he asked. He figured what better way to get answers than by asking as the young man seemed to be very cooperative in giving out information. No manipulation or torture required so far.

The young man seemed to give him a knowing smile and said enigmatically, "Exactly what I said."

Then he had the nerve to make his eye suddenly twinkle.

Phil never thought he would meet someone who had more knowledge than Fury or someone who would test his patience more than Stark but he was getting there with this young man and he had only been in his company for a few minutes at most though it could be longer, apparently Phil's sense of time was off. It didn't help that Phil was confused beyond belief as well.

"If you are the Master of Death then how can I know when I'm truly dead?" asked Phil as that seemed to be the only question now in his head as it was somewhat contradictory to what the young man said.

For the first time since the young man appeared to him then, he sighed and said, "Death is a complicated but peaceful thing."

Phil sincerely doubted it. He remembered the pain of being stabbed.

"But you don't remember the pain after as I'm sure it all went numb," said the young man.

Phil tried to remember back to what it felt like after he was stabbed and found he couldn't remember any pain.

"Are you trying to influence my decision? I have a decision whether to stay or go on to wherever?" asked Phil. He figured that was what his choices had to be. He could either stay here and become a ghost or go on to wherever you go when you die.

"I do not influence decisions, Agent Coulson," said the young man. "And in case, you were wondering as I can tell you are, you have a three choices here not just two."

"Three," echoed Phil back, uncomprehendingly.

"Three," confirmed the young man nodding his head. Phil doesn't think he could ever call him Master of Death, even in his head.

"Three?" Phil repeated back again. He just didn't know what the third choice was.

The young man sighed and said, "You were right about your first two choices. You can either stay here and become a ghost or you can go on to where you go when you die _or_ for your _third_ choice, you can go back."

"I can go back?" echoed Phil back.

"Are you a dunderhead?" asked the young man and Phil thought he sounded completely serious before he frowned and said, "I sound like my old professor."

"What do you mean, I can go back?" asked Phil, choosing not to comment on the young man's statement but filing it away for later.

"Right at this moment, a medical team is trying their hardest to restart your heart. Now, you can either let them and go back or you can die and either stay here or move on. You have a choice," explained the young man.

"What if I didn't have a medical team working on me? Would I still have the same choices?" asked Phil.

The young man smiled mysteriously and didn't answer him.

After a moment of silence, Phil asked, "How long do I have to decide?"

"As long as you need. Time passes differently here than it does there as I'm sure you know. We're on different planes," explained the young man.

"Do you always make a personal appearance for everyone who comes here?" asked Phil curiously, to take his mind off his choices. He already made up his mind as soon as he heard all of his choices, but it couldn't hurt to get a bit more information on the young man in front of him.

The young man smiled at him, as if he knew what Phil was doing, but said, "Yes. It comes with the title."

"Master of Death?" asked Phil.

"Yes."

"How can one master death?" asked Phil.

"How indeed."

Phil frowned and said, "That's not an answer."

"Isn't it?

"No," replied Phil.

"Tell you what, if you can find me when I'm not here in this plane, maybe I'll tell you more, Phil," said the young man with a slight grin after a moment of silence.

"Including your real name?" asked Phil as he debated his choices.

"Let's not push your luck," said the young man, though Phil could tell he was grinning even more broadly.

"So you reside in the, for lack of a better phrase, real world?" asked Phil.

"Of course."

"I've never heard of you," said Phil.

"Of course not. I've been keeping a low profile. Especially with what seems like everyone coming out with super powers now."

Phil frowned slightly and said, "Don't you want to be a hero?"

"I've had my chance at being a hero a long time ago. It seems like centuries ago now, but in fact, it was only one. Now it's up to someone else," said the young man, who Phil now knew wasn't a young man at all, almost as if he were reminiscing.

"Who's turn is it?" asked Phil, not expecting a straight answer, having not received one so far without jumping through many hoops.

"Why the superheros' turn, of course. I believe you call them the Avengers and they are going to need a handler," said the young man with a small smile.

"I thought you don't influence decisions?" asked Phil.

"I don't," said the young man. "Your mind has been made up since you heard all of your choices. I'm just giving you reminders. Now wake up."

"What?" asked Phil, slightly confused at the sudden change in conversation.

"Come on, Agent, wake up already," said a voice and Phil was suddenly gone from the blackness and he was surrounded by a sudden blinding whiteness and the smell of disinfectant, surrounded by Stark, Captain America, Dr. Banner, Thor and Agents Romanoff and Barton.

Phil blinked his eyes at everyone and everyone looked at him. Phil could see the relief in their eyes as he felt the tube down his throat and he instinctively repressed the need to gag and choke at the sensation.

"Don't ever do that to us again, Agent," said Stark in his usual snarky voice but Phil could hear the relief. He was trained to hear people's weaknesses and use it against them, after all.

"Yes, Son of Coul," agreed Thor with relief as Captain America and Dr. Banner nodded their agreement, their relief obvious. Agents Romanoff and Barton just looked at him with a blank face though Phil could see their relief around their eyes. He would have to work on that with them, glad that he would have the chance due to that young man, who wasn't such a young man, in the darkness, though he had to wonder later on if he was real and not, a delusional thing he dreamt.

"Next time he wants a three week nap, Nicky, just give him a vacation," was the last thing he heard as he drifted off into a peaceful sleep wondering how he missed Boss being in the room with him.


	2. Deep Thoughts and Talking with Stark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: *waves* See? I said I would eventually come back to this. Anyway, I'm adding this story/chapter here as many of you are already following this story to get the update though I'm still leaving this story marked as complete as essentially each chapter I may add in the future will be it's own completed story that will tie-in to the previous stories. So think of this story as a series of one-shots but you don't have to search through my stories trying to guess which ones belong in the series, they are all right here for you.
> 
> Also, I know this is a short chapter/story but it's going to bridge the first chapter/story to the next chapters/stories. Thanks for bearing with me. :-)

_One Month Later –  
_

Agent Phil Coulson was going crazy and he didn't mean that figuratively. He meant that quite literally. Especially if he had to look at these four white walls for a minute longer.

It had been a month since he had died at the hand of Loki, or more accurately, the Scepter that Loki wielded, and he had been confined to bedrest in that time while he healed. He was unable to put one hair out of bed let alone work, walk to the bathroom and use the toilet, work, try to catch up on his paperwork (he doesn't even want to think about how far he's fallen behind and he was a just slightly behind before all this started), work, take a shower or work to name a few of his restrictions.

Honestly, Director Fury is lucky he didn't stage an uprising already.

He let out a sigh and glanced at the clock. It was almost time for his psychiatrist to come and talk to him. Now don't get him wrong, Phil didn't have a problem with psychiatrists in general – as long as he wasn't the one being subjected to their mind analysis.

Director Fury told him though there was no getting out of the mandatory psychiatric evaluation. S.H.I.E.L.D. and Fury wanted to make sure he was mentally sound after being clinically dead for eight seconds and having stopped breathing for forty, or so Fury told him. Apparently that can change a man.

There was a tiny part of his mind, however, that whispered traitorously that maybe he needed his mind analyzed. He had a vision – or dreamt – of someone who called themselves "Master of Death." If someone is deluded enough to think they can master death then obviously they need their head examined, no pun intended. After all, death was absolute. It was something that happened whether you were ready for it or not. There was no choice involved.

But then again, he could have sworn he was at that place he had dreamt of with that young man for several minutes even though he acknowledged to himself while he was there that his own sense of time had foresworn him.

"Deep thoughts?" a voice suddenly interrupted him.

Phil whipped his head towards the door to his room. He never heard Tony Stark enter the Infirmary let alone make it all the way to his room. He was getting rusty, which is why Fury needed to clear him for light training at least.

"Careful not to give yourself whiplash, Agent. Pepper would kill me if I injured you more while you were already bedridden," said Stark as he walked further into the room.

Phil didn't say anything as he continued to stare at Stark wondering why he was here so early. The Avengers, except Thor who had already gone back to Asgard taking Loki with him, have taken it upon themselves to sit with him in shifts, though they usually left him alone for the next three hours – about thirty minutes to talk to the psychiatrist and the two hours after the psychiatrist left to get his sponge bath.

God, Phil couldn't wait until he could take a shower. He didn't even care if he had to be supervised to do it, he just wanted to be properly clean again.

Stark sat in the chair besides his bed as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"You're wondering what I'm doing here so early, right?" Stark asked as he pulled out a bag of blueberries and started to eat them, not even offering Phil any.

Phil just continued to stare at him.

Stark tossed a blueberry in the air and caught it in his mouth before he shrugged and said, "We figured you could use a break from not talking to your psychiatrist."

Phil raised an eyebrow.

Stark raised an eyebrow right back.

"Does confidential mean anything to you?" asked Phil, finally speaking.

Stark waved a hand carelessly and said, "For somethings. So…wanna talk?"

"To you?"

"I've been told I'm a good listener."

"Before or after you've taken them to bed?"

Stark actually paused to consider his answer before he actually gave it which caused Phil to let out a groan and lean his head against his pillow.

"Yeah there was some of that happening too during the talking now that I think about it," continued Stark as he ate a blueberry.

Phil sat up and glared at Stark.

Stark let out his own sigh, setting his blueberries down and said, "Look I told them to send someone else. Someone like Banner –"

"I wasn't aware Dr. Banner had a degree in Psychology," said Phil sardonically.

"Bruce would listen," insisted Stark stubbornly.

"He told me he wasn't that kind of doctor," said Phil.

"But he would listen as a friend," said Stark, suddenly standing up to examine the room.

The room fell silent.

After a few minutes the silence was starting to become a bit awkward, at least to Phil, so he started to say, "Look –"

"Did I ever tell you about my time in Afghanistan?" interrupted Stark, still looking around the room and avoiding eye contact with Phil.

"I've read the reports," said Phil after a moment, wondering where Stark was going with this.

"A chest full of shrapnel shell shards, almost dying, from the weapons that I designed at that. It changes a man, even if you don't acknowledged it," said Stark, now staring at a corner in the room.

Phil was silent now wondering where Stark was going with this.

"Almost dying. It's funny – and not in the 'ha ha' kind of way either – but that's not the only time I almost died either. It happened again when I intercepted the missile that your organization decided to launch at Manhattan."

Phil was now wondering why Stark was telling him this. It seemed like it was something personal and they weren't exactly best friends.

Stark finally turned around and looked him in the eye.

"I get it," Stark said simply.

"You get it?" said Phil back, confusedly.

"Yes. The fact that you were dead, though in both of my cases no one officially declared me anything. You were somewhere else from where you thought you were supposed to be and it was kind of peaceful," said Stark. "I get it."

Phil was silent as he thought about it. The place, even though it was dark and drafty, could be considered peaceful. He didn't really enjoy it all that much though as he was too busy questioning the young man.

Here was an opportunity though. Tony Stark has just admitted to him, of all people, that he had a near death experience twice. Did he see the young man as well?

"Did you see a young man in the...peaceful place...as well?" asked Phil after a moment of silent contemplation.

Another beat of silence before Stark answered with just one word.

"Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N2: I was going to have Tony share his conversation he had with Harry but it seemed like something that was too personal for Tony to share with Phil at this moment...especially since Tony was out of his element. Maybe if he was in his lab...Anyway, the next chapter/one-shot, whatever you would like to consider it as, is being worked on though I have no idea when it will be posted.


	3. Conversations with Tony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: See previous.
> 
> A/N: See previous.
> 
> BACKGROUND: See previous.
> 
> Beta: LogicIsBoring44, she did a fantastic job and all remaining errors are my own. :-)

"What?" asked Phil, staring at Stark as if he had never seen him before.

"Once you can dismiss as a hallucination, as wanting to be in a better place than a terrorist's cave in Afghanistan. But twice? Not a coincidence," replied Stark, though it didn't seem as if he was talking to Phil.

Phil pondered what Stark said in silence as the other man seemed to be stuck in his thoughts.

Several minutes later, Stark explained further, "I've had JARVIS looking for him since the last time I saw him."

"Since New York?" Phil asked in clarification. Maybe he wouldn't have to see a specialist for possibly losing his mind – though one person, and Stark at that, wasn't a ringing endorsement.

Stark nodded once.

Phil thought about it, wondering if he could get Stark to tell him some of his visit to the peaceful place – not all of it, as he could never image sharing something so…sacred to himself with another person – but enough to compare notes and make sure it was actually the same person they saw.

Stark checked the watch on his wrist, perhaps sensing what Phil wanted to ask, and said, "There isn't enough time to tell you about either time I saw him before your hot nurse comes to give you a bath."

"Stark," said Phil with a sigh, a little disappointed that he was read so easily by Stark.

Stark raised his hands in slight surrender and said, as said nurse knocked on the doorway, "No judging here, Agent."

"Don't go anywhere," Phil ordered. "I still want to talk to you."

"Sure," said Stark flippantly, and Phil wondered if Stark would actually wait until he was done. "See you in a bit, Agent."

"Stark," said Phil with a nod, and Stark walked out of the room.

Outside in the hallway from Agent's room, Tony sat down in a chair. He looked around to make sure no one could see him before he ran a hand down his face and let out a sigh.

Tony's conversation with Agent – he resolutely forgot the fact that he actually knew Agent's name – brought up what he has been trying to put off for roughly…oh, the past two months.

Tony didn't think anyone else saw the supposed Master of Death, and Tony held the snort that wanted to come out with that thought, when they were dying. He thought, especially the first time, that it was an extremely vivid delusion – one brought on by the situation he was in. However, like he told Agent – one time you can dismiss as a hallucination, but twice? Definitely not a coincidence.

And now despite his best efforts, Tony mind started to drift to the first time he spoke to the Master of Death and he became immersed in the memory…

_Tony opened his eyes with a gasp as he struggled to breath. He started to frantically pat down his body. He was fine – naked, but fine. He somehow thought he should be in pain…that his chest should hurt, but he didn't hurt at all, and glancing down at it, his chest was perfectly fine. Not a blemish on it._

_This picture of a perfect chest seemed wrong to him somehow and his last memory, even though his last memory was somewhat scattered._

_He sat up and looked around where he was. He was in his lab at his home in Malibu._

_"JARVIS?" he called out as he stood up and glanced around his lab._

_His AI was suspiciously quiet and his lab was too clean, a little too neat for him._

_Tony knew, even though it looked remarkably similar to his lab, it wasn't. His lab hadn't been this spotless since he built it._

_He really wished he was dressed for whatever was coming next – as he was sure there would be a next._

_Suddenly, on the table where he did the majority of his work – if this had been his lab – his favorite outfit appeared, jeans and a '80s rock band shirt. He quickly put them on, not liking the exposed feeling naked left him feeling. It was inherently different somehow than usual…like someone was judging him. He didn't like it._

_"You are definitely one of the smarter ones to come through here, Mister Stark," a voiced said directly behind him._

_Tony jumped and turned around._

_There was a hooded-cloaked figure standing behind him._

_"Who are you? What is this place? It looks like my lab but it's not my lab…Too clean. I need a drink," said Tony, rapid fire. He looked around and, to his surprise, his favorite drink was sitting right where his clothes had been._

_Even though the man's face – and Tony knew it was a man by his voice – was covered, Tony could tell he was amused as he said, "Are we in your lab? Hmm…I didn't notice. Someone told me once, that this was 'your party' so you can have whatever you want, within reason, while we are here."_

_Tony, who had picked up his drink, paused in taking a sip. "We aren't staying here?"_

_The man was amused again though Tony thought that perhaps there was a tinge of sadness to his amusement as well._

_"You could…if you want to become a ghost," the man replied._

_Tony looked more closely at the man. "Who are you? Wait? I'm dead?!" He would be leaving Pepper and Happy and JARVIS and Rhodey behind…_

_The man was definitely regretful as he answered this time. "No, you aren't dead. Right now, you are in a cave-"_

_"Cave?" asked Tony, sitting down, drink now forgotten as memories started to come back to him._

_"A terrorist cave, actually," said the man sounding even more regretful, though understanding, "and a man, a prisoner like you, is working on saving your life."_

_"Who are you? Why are you talking to me?" asked Tony, staring at the man now standing across from him._

_The man looked steadily at him. "You have a choice: You can stay here and become a ghost, as you know."_

_Tony said nothing, just looked at the man to continue._

_"And the other choices are: You can move_ on _or you can go back," finished the man._

_Tony was silent, contemplating and, knowing this time he would get an answer, asked one final time, "Who are you? Why do you get to offer me the choice of life, death or pseudo-death?"_

_The man smiled mysteriously. "Why indeed. As for who I am, I go by many names but while I am on this plane – for a lack of a better word – I go by the title of Master of Death."_

_Tony couldn't help the snort that came out of him as he repeated, "Master of Death?"_

_The man nodded. "Yes."_

_"That implies you beat Death. How does one_ beat _Death?" asked Tony, curiously._

_"How indeed," said the man._

_Tony felt annoyance rise at the non-answer._

_"Why are you offering me these choices?" Tony asked, changing tactics._

_The man looked at him and Tony felt the need to elaborate, "Why me? Answer me that. You must know of all the things that I've done, things I knew were not good…I'm not a good person, I know I'm not. There must be hundreds of thousands of people who are better than I am, do you offer them the same choice? But most importantly, why would I want to go back to a world where I'm in a terrorist's cave, and more than likely to get tortured and used for ransom? Where I'm more likely to die because America doesn't 'negotiate' with terrorists?"_

_The man looked at Tony with a look that he couldn't quite describe and he said one word, "Potential."_

_"Potential?" parroted Tony in disbelief._

_The man nodded once. "You have the potential to be better…more. There is something great in your future if you go back."_

_"Are you allowed to tell me this?" Tony asked in curiosity. Can the man who beat Death get in trouble for flapping his gums?_

_"Who says you'll remember it?" asked the man back._

_"Good point," Tony conceded before he said, "But what about the other people. Didn't they get a choice? Or am I just lucky? Do they not have something 'great' in their future that allows the option to cheat death?"_

_"Who says they did not? Each conversation is private," said the man, with a slight frown._

_"Well that's a relief," replied Tony sarcastically. He really doesn't want to be sober right now. At least alcohol allows him to shift the blame to the drink for this weird ass dream because it has to be a dream._

_"Isn't it?" responded the man back, no longer frowning._

_Tony eyed his abandoned glass of alcohol. He wondered if he could at least have the illusion of non-sobriety as he thought about his decision._

_"I'm sorry," said the man claiming to be the Master of Death after a few minutes of contemplation on Tony's part._

_"Why?" Tony asked, suspiciously. "Are you influencing my decision?"_

_"I do not influence decisions. We just have conversations while I await your choice," explained the man._

_"Why are you sorry then?" asked Tony, sounding slightly fearful because even if it's a dream, the possibility of never seeing Pepper, Rhodey or JARVIS again scares the living crap out of him._

_"For the consequences of your decision," came the very unhelpful reply from the man._

_"What?" asked Tony, but there was no response._

_Instead, there was unbearable pain as he opened his eyes._

"Stark!"

Tony snapped out of his first memory he had with the Master of Death to glance up at who called his name, saw Capsicle; and unable to stop his memories now that they started, he started to relieve his second memory that happened less than two months ago.

_Tony felt a sense of déjà vu as his eyes snapped open and he choked on his next breath._

_"Well, I sure didn't expect to be seeing you so soon, Mister Stark," said a voice to the right of him._

_Tony turned his head from where he was lying and saw the self-proclaimed Master of Death – whom he was thought was a hallucination – standing beside his lab table. The last thing he remembered was flying the nuke into the portal and then nothing._

_He turned his stare to the ceiling as he asked mildly, "So am I dead this time?"_

_"Not quite," said the man._

_Tony turned quickly to the man, still lying down, and said, "I was in deep space in just my Iron Man suit. The Captain would have closed the portal right away. How can I 'not quite' be dead in deep space? Riddle me that, oh Master of Death."_

_"You underestimate the Captain. He would have given you a few minutes to come back down," said the man. "The rest of your team would have your back."_

_"Yeah, right," said Tony sitting up, not liking the prone feeling, especially since he was once again naked. Must be a kink of the so-called Master of Death._

_He wished for clothes and the same clothes appeared as they did before. He quickly got dressed, not saying anything and when he finished, picked up the drink that was now on the table, taking a healthy sip._

_The man hadn't said a word the entire time._

_Tony finished his drink and wished for another. He picked up the drink and took another sip before he turned and faced the man._

_"Master of Death," greeted Tony._

_"Mister Stark," replied the man._

_"Please, you've seen me naked twice. I think you can call me by my first name," responded Tony as he took another sip._

_'Good bourbon,' Tony thought with approval. Must be a perk of being on the brink of death._

_The man inclined his head._

_"Do I have the same choices this time?" asked Tony, wanting to know._

_The man was still, evaluating Tony carefully, and he asked, "What do you think of the choice you made last time? Do you regret it?"_

_Tony, knowing that his answer was important, uncharacteristically took the time to think his answer through before he said, "No I don't regret it...it was worth it." Unequivocally, it was worth it._

_"Despite all the problems you've had? The need of the Arc Reactor in your chest? The poisoning from said Arc Reactor? The fear of the shrapnel piercing your heart? The betrayal of your dad's business partner?"_

_"Yes, despite all that, it was worth it," said Tony and he took a sip of his drink, hoping to erase the emotions that were burning through him with the burning of alcohol. "I was able to help people despite my troubles and personality."_

_"Potential, right?" asked the man._

_"What?" asked Tony, confused._

_Faster than Tony could blink, the man touched his forehead and memories of the last time he was here unlocked themselves – memories that talked about Tony's potential._

_Tony considered the memories for a moment before he asked, "Will I remember that memory this time or are you going to take it back after I've woken up and leave me with the overwhelming feeling of missing something? I got to tell you, Master of Death, that that feeling gets old real quick. I might not even talk to you next time we meet up."_

_The man was silent though Tony had the uncomfortable feeling that the man's eye was twinkling at him._

_"Do enjoy your shawarma," said the man._

_Because that makes so much sense. Shawarma? What shawarma? There was no shawarma in this nice hallucination that provided good bourbon. The Master of Death is starting to show his age with senile comments like that._

_However, before Tony could voice any of his thoughts to that comment, he woke up with a gasp and Captain America, Thor and Hulk hovering above him._

"Stark!" came the Captain's concerned voice again, successfully pulling Tony out of his second flashback.

Tony ignored the Capsicle while he tried to gather his wits before a thought slammed into him.

He needed to see Bruce.


End file.
